


Godric Rocket Arms and Technology Inc.

by endsoftheworld



Series: Pokemon Genesis [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Red & Green & Blue & Yellow | Pokemon Red Green Blue Yellow Versions
Genre: Original Character(s), Other, Prequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3303911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endsoftheworld/pseuds/endsoftheworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the gyms, before the Elite Four, before Red, this first part to the series of prequels for the first generation of Pokemon games (R/B/G/Y).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Godric Rocket Arms and Technology Inc.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is intentionally based solely on the original games and not the anime or manga. Any relation is to either is purely coincidence, or in good humor, but is in no way intended to build up to Ash or any of his (sometimes moronic) exploits.  
> Thanks.

Kaito sat alone on his birthday. He stood in blowing breeze, and the soft grass of his family’s yard, next to his house. Kaito lived in the fairly new town, Pallet Town. In this town there were people and Pokémon, and often more Pokémon than people.

The people and the Pokémon had a relationship, though, not necessarily a unique one. Like most of the rest of the world, the people would give the Pokémon food and shelter, and in return the Pokémon would help the people with certain tasks. For some, this meant simply enjoying each other’s company as a pet and owner relationship, while others used them for security, as no one is going to rob a house that has a flaming dog guarding it. And still, there were those who would use Pokémon as weapons of war, protecting their land and people with these fantastic creatures. For Pallet Town, Pokémon were mainly used for labor that a normal human couldn’t possibly achieve.

The symbiosis between man and Pokémon in Pallet was a simple one. A person who was in need of a hand in their work would go out into the tall grass on Route 1, with food and rocks on hand. The person would hold out their food as a nearby Pokémon walked past. If the Pokémon fed from the person, they were more likely to follow the person home, and from there it could be trained to chop wood, or cut stone, or deliver packages, or whatever else it might be capable of. Pokémon that would do this would have the comfort of a warm shelter, no predators, and a regular supply of food, all for a limited amount work on their part. There was the occasional Pokémon that would be more aggressive than the average, and with that a person would usually only need to throw a few rocks at it to scare it away. Since Route 1 only had only pidgeys and rattatas populating it, there was hardly ever reason to worry if the rock _didn’t_ scare an attacking Pokémon off. But then, the economy of a developing town was of hardly any consequence to Kaito on his eleventh birthday.

And so, Kaito continued sitting, waiting for the cake, his mom had been saving up war rations all year for. And while it probably wouldn't be the best cake ever made (and of course Kaito knew this) he couldn’t stand waiting to taste the sweet, but dry, icing, and smell the smoke from the homemade, makeshift candles on it.

Trying to think of something to distract himself while he waited, Kaito got up and walked around, staring at the ground looking for anything to remotely keep his interest. While he walked, the wind pushed his hair into his eyes consistently, a rate which he could almost predict when he would need to brush it out again.

His hair was a brown that would have almost looked like it was striped with sable and ash brown strands, had it been combed properly. But his hair was virtually always unkempt, to the point where each color in his hair seemed to blend into one unique shade of brown in itself. Kaito had gotten this from his father's side. His eyes, on the other hand, he had inherited from his mother, and they looked almost like circles of coffee grounds: dark flecks scattered over a brown backdrop.

As he continued pacing around his yard, Kaito glimpsed a small shuffle in a pile of dead leaves, and walked over to investigate. Gently, he brushed the leaves out of the way, and cupped a young rattata with both hands. He brought the rattata to his face, frightened, the small rodent squirmed to get free, but stopped struggling as Kaito stopped moving. It sniffed Kaito’s chin, and he brought it up just a few inches higher so his face matched Kaito’s nose. The rattata took one smaller sniff of Kaito’s face, and then gave a soft, affectionate, nibble on his nose. Kaito giggled, and dropped to the ground holding the rattata. As he lay there, he let it go, and it playfully crawled over him.

Kaito’s mother stood in the kitchen, near the yard, mixing cake batter. She stirred the large bowl of tan viscous liquid, staring thoughtfully at a picture of her father. Kaito’s household wasn’t a religious family by any means. They viewed Pokémon as animals, and the “legendaries” as just that: legends. But, after he was lost in the war, she would always bake and think of her father as her way of praying for him.

 _RAPTAPTAP!_   went the sudden pattern of small knuckles on the front door. Kaito’s mother nearly dropped the bowl at the sound of this. Coming to her senses, she poured the batter in a glass container, and placed it into the oven.

“Hi Mrs. F!” came a familiar voice at the doorway.

“Oh! Miyu! Hello.” She said, with the appropriate cheer upon seeing one of Kaito’s friends.

Miyu was about a year older than Kaito. She lived next door to him, and was his best friend for, what felt like, his entire life. Living in such a small town, there weren’t many options for friends, and while Kaito and Miyu were both functionally different people, they got along better than almost anyone they knew.

Miyu was a few inches taller than Kaito, and she never ceased an opportunity to remind him of this. She had faint freckles, spotted in various patterns over her face, like an artist’s paintbrush splattered them on. Her hair was exceptionally long, not very well brushed, and dirty blonde to the point where it was almost a light brown. Her eyes, however, were a perfect green. They looked like lily pads on a milky white surface, and to everyone she would meet, she would know that the first thing out of their mouth would be to compliment her eyes.  
“Wow, you’re eyes going to make some man very happy one day.” they’d say, this one confused her.  
“Where did you get those? Surely not from your mother or father. They're both brown eyed.”  
And her personal favorite: “What jeweler can I go to to get those?”, not because she found it particularly flattering, but because she knew that almost no adult in the town that would say that to her would be able to afford anything from a jewler’s.

But Miyu neverreally understand what all the fuss over her eyes were. Not that she ever got a proper chance to look at them, however, since her family couldn’t afford a mirror. Her family couldn’t afford much of anything. In fact, the only reason that they were able to stay in the town after her mother died, and continue their family’s milling business, was thanks to many generous donations from the rest of the town’s people over the years.

A town like Pallet would be too proud to just give out money, save for Kaito’s family and perhaps the Oak residence, but every once in a while a person, would “accidentally” pay too much for their lumber, and just be “too busy” to bring it up to them again. The town was good like that.

Back at the doorway, a slightly shorter girl (though, still taller than Kaito) stood a few paces behind Miyu. Her name was Aoi.  Aoi was almost exactly the same age as Kaito, her birthday being only 3 weeks after his. She was also the daughter of the town’s most prized citizen, Professor Samuel Oak.

Like her father and mother, Aoi had piercing blue eyes that were color of the sky at midday, just around the edges of the Sun, where the Sun stops and the sky begins. Unlike her father and mother, however, Aoi had flawless golden blonde hair, perfectly straight, and significantly shorter than Miyu’s, though, much better groomed.

Aoi came from a broken, but well-off, family, and she benefited from this greatly. While she was supposed to stay with her father most of the year, her mother would never miss an opportunity to video call her, or send her gifts. And her mother would always make it a point to one-up her father on everything, hoping that Aoi would love her more for it. On her eighth-birthday, Samuel gave her a complete copy of his notes on rare Pokémon, where to find them, and how to evolve them. This included his unpublished and controversial topics that he excluded from the official report. Aoi’s mother bought her a ponyta, which arrived by mail mid-afternoon. And of course, Aoi’s mother was right, Aoi love her more.

With her wealthy upbringing, beautiful looks, and prestigious relative, there was no shortage of boys her age in the town who harbored a crush on her at one point or another, except for perhaps Kaito, who was much more interested in what he could find outside wandering about, than flaunting who he did or did not like. And yet, despite all this, she would find the most happiness hanging out with Kaito and Miyu (whether they wanted her around or not), even though Aoi would never let them know that.

“Why hello Aoi.” Kaito’s mother said, looking aver Miyu after she had greeted her. Aoi rolled her eyes at this, but accepted the mother’s hugging embrace nonetheless. “Guess you two are here for Kaito?”

“Yes ma’am!” Miyu said with a smile.

“He’s out bac-” She had stopped talking to the girls, and her face went red. She lost control of her legs, only for a minute.

“MRS. F!” Miyu shouted. Aoi still stood behind, ready to jump, but not quite sure what to do with herself either, so she just looked on.

Before she hit the ground, Kaito’s mom regained consciousness, and stopped her backwards fall with her hand, by grabbing on the nearby counter. “I’m fine girls.” She said, as she wiped sweat that had beaded on her forehead.

“You know you’re not supposed to be up and around that much.” Miyu told her, helping her to sit down on a kitchen chair, and gesturing with her eyes for Aoi to come over and do the same. 

“I’m fine. Really. Just a brief lapse. I’m good. Go see Kaito. I can take care of myself.” She didn’t sound so sure that she could take care of herself, but her voice was resolute when she told them to go see Kaito. So the girls exchanged glances, and walked outback, keeping Kaito’s mom in the corner of their eye, even if all she did was continue to sit, and hold her head up with her hand.

The girls walked outside, and saw Kaito playing with his rattata. As they walked over towards him. The rattata, startled by this sudden movement, ran off into a hole in a tree stump.

Kaito looked up to see why, and saw that Miyu and Aoi stood just above him. “Oh.” He said with a glum tone, but a smile nonetheless. “What’d you have to go and do that for, we were having fun.” Even though Kaito lost his one friend, he was happy to see his others.

“Sorry.” Miyu said apologetically.

“No we’re not.” Aoi countered. “Listen brown-eyes, you gotta stop playing with everything you find in the streets. You don’t know what they could be carrying.” Kaito stared at Aoi blankly, rolled his eyes, and sighed.

Miyu grabbed Kaito’s shoulder, looked him in the eyes, and sympathetically speaking for both herself and Aoi, said. “Kaito, we’re sorry.”

“It’s fine, I think he had a family to get back to anyway. So, what’s up?” 

“What’s up?” Aoi said mockingly, “It’s your birthday stupid, or were you too busy with your street-rat to care.”

“I FOUND HIM IN THE YARD. HE’S NOT A STREET RAT.” Kaito stood on his toes to try and make himself taller than Aoi when he yelled.

Miyu got between to two of them, and gently nudged Kaito to stand on flat on his feet again. “Hey, listen.” she said, “We got you something.”

“What? Why?”

“Cause it’s you birthday.” Miyu said obviously. “And you deserve this.”

Kaito looked confused. He certainly wasn’t expecting anything. As far as he was concerned, birthday presents stayed a tradition in big cities where people could afford presents. The only person he ever even knew to get things on their birthday was Aoi, and that was only from her own family. He felt lucky enough just to be getting cake.

“Here. Aoi.” Miyu called Aoi, as she reluctantly walked over, revealing a small golden box from behind her. It was a relatively flat box, about an inch high, eight inches long, and four wide. It had a pokéball mark engraved on top, into the gold-colored foil wrapping.

As Aoi handed it over, and Kaito reached out, reluctant, but happy to accept. As he took it into his hands, an earsplitting siren went off in the distance. All three children stood still, ghost pale, not knowing what to do. Kaito had heard a siren like this twice before. Once, 8 years ago, when he lived in Cerulian City, and a draft came to town and took his grandfather for the war effort. And once all three of them had heard, in Pallet Town, 2 years ago, when there was a town-wide scare after a half-dozen military grade voltorbs escaped into that area. Whatever the siren was calling for, it probably meant that the region’s government wasn’t too far behind.

Kaito’s mother threw up the window before the children even had time to look back at the house. “KAITO!” she screamed. “KIDS! GET IN!” Her face was red with fear, and her orders were adamant. The children rushed inside. She took Kaito and Miyu by the hand, and Miyu grabbed Aoi. She rushed to the town’s center square almost faster than the children’s legs could move.

At the center square, a large crowd gathered. Every person in the town had gathered there, save for Professor Oak. It was densely packed, so much so that none of the children could see past the first row of people.

“Kaito!” Yelled a low, but relieved voice. It was his father. A tall, burly built man, with a rough beard and round eyes. He grabbed Kaito, by the shoulders, and looked at the other two children. “Kids, I’m glad you’re all right. Miyu, where is your father?”

Miyu thought, and realized that she had not seen him all day, just her grandmother. She tried to scan the crowd for his face, but to no luck since she still couldn’t see any further than before. She was about to ask Kaito’s father for help in looking for him, but noticed that he, and everyone else, had become distracted by whatever was at the center of the crowd.

One black helicopter with two propellers, three men in suits, and six machokes, stood center, as almost all the town watched and listened. The man in the center had a large clipboard, and soft puppy-dog eyes, that completely contrasted to the rest of his intimidatingly large physique. To the right of him, stone faced man with a megaphone stood absolutely, waiting for orders to talk. And at the other end, a skinnier, bald man, taller than the both paced back and forth. He stood about a head over the other two men in suits, and surveyed the crowd. In his ear was a small, but noticeable, earpiece that he was most likely receiving orders from. And surrounding the helicopter, were the six machokes, reinforcing order, and each one outdoing the physique of all three men put together.

The bald man tapped the man with the clipboard on the shoulder, and the man with the clipboard spoke into the man with a megaphone’s ear. The man with the megaphone looked up, turned his head to gander at as much of the crowd as he could, without moving his feet. Then he turned on the megaphone.

A high pitched squeal resonated from the megaphone, and with that, the crowd's full attention was on the men. He spoke into the megaphone, with an uncharacteristically high pitched, yet somehow, still incredibly intimidating voice.  

“Citizens of Pallet Town.” He spoke up. Anyone who was still not paying full attention, was now. Even the children, who could still not see the man, looked up as though they could. “By order of your Government we are hereby taking over jurisdiction of this area and its town. Any resistance will be considered treason.”

“WHAT!” A voice said from the crowd.

“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS!” Said another.

“WE HAVE A LIVELIHOOD HERE! YOU CAN’T JUST TAKE IT!”

“WHERE IS OAK?!” Shouted one, very clear voice.

“YEAH?!” Agreed another from across the crowd, “SOMEONE GET OAK!”

A few moments later a man, not previously in the crowd before, rushed his way though. He was a tall, good looking man. Mid-thirties, with a peppered gray and black full head of hair. Around his chin was a short scruff of facial hair. He wore a lab coat (some of the town’s people said he didn’t even have any other clothes to wear because he lost them all in the divorce), and a large electric rodent walked next to him. These two were the Professor and his raichu.

“Professor!” A man said to him, as he walked through the crowd, “put some sense into their g-man heads.”

“Professor, knock’em out with your raichu!” shouted another, overly-enthusiastic voice.

This, of course, was a silly notion, not only because one raichu was no match for six well trained, government raised machokes. But also because, the raichu in question didn’t know many attacks. Even the standard thunderbolt was at a loss to it, and when town’s people would ask to use its electricity to power appliances, Oak would always have to politely decline to avoid the embarrassment of admitting he had never bothered to teach it any attacks, and rather just had it around for research and companionship.

As he, and the raichu, made their way to the front of the crowd, the man with the clipboard stopped writing in it for a moment, and looked up, ready to send a machoke out to attack. But, when he saw in clear view, who it was coming up, he quickly withdrew, and smiled. “Well. Professor Samuel Oak.”, he said. “I thought you’d skipped out on this _mandatory_ town event. I was looking forward filing a warrant for your arrest.”

“What are you doing here?” The Professor asked, ignoring the man’s comment.

“Well, had you been here from the beginning, you would know that the government is taking this town and its assets.”

“Listen.” He said, holding up a large paperback book for the crowd to see. “This is region-wide law book, regulating town development. This town is less than 12 years old, and not at the maximum population count. According to the laws set by _your_ government, we have a right to develop on our own until such a time as when we meet the regional requirements.” The crowd cheered at this, even those who weren’t quite sure what he had said.

“Times of war call for drastic measures, Professor. You of all people should know that. Our government has overridden those rules, you are a prosperous enough town to take advantage of, or would you rather that the Enemy come to your door and take everything from you by force.”

“So, really, not much different than what you’re doing right now? And despite that, you must understand, we are prosperous enough only for ourselves. We can’t afford to feed an army.”

“Then you people are useless. But we’re not here for your supplies or your scraps. This is a draft.”

“You can’t possibly be serious.” He was genuinely bewildered. "This is a joke, right? We would barely have enough people here to defend this town, small as it is."

“The government does not joke around professor.” He lifted up a hand, and a machoke from his rear left walked over from its position to stand directly in front of the professor.

“I don’t-” Oak had started, but was unable to finish. The machoke clutched the professor’s shoulder, gave a squeeze, and made a crack. Oak let out a small hiccup, and then fell to the ground, untouched. The raichu that had stayed by him, sparked its cheeks, but unable to create any effective attack, was promptly kicked into unconsciousness by the same machoke.

The Man with the Megaphone stepped over Oak’s unmoving body, began to speak. “This is an ultimatum for your town: We either meet our quota of men and boys drafted, or this town’s charter is officially dissolved.

“All men from the ages of 11 to 40 will line up before Mr. Black here.” He pointed to the man with clipboard. “If your names are on our list, you will then board the helicopter, and proceed to our training grounds, to prepare to fight for your region.”

The machokes faces fell on to the rest of the crowd. As they leered on to the people, and moved forward into the crowd, they herded them like cattle, into one straight line of men from 11 to 40. Some husbands pleaded with their wives and younger sons to leave. Most fought argued back, or tried to barter to take their place for them, but government men, and their machoke body guards, wouldn’t allow it. Much to their objection, Kaito’s mother forced Miyu and Aoi back to her house, not out of fear, but to spare them from whatever would happen next. Aoi had already seen enough with her father.

While names were called, and drafts were being made, Kaito’s father looked his son in the eyes, and grabbed both his shoulders. “Son I love you, go back to your mother now.”

“But I-”

“Do not question me. I promise you I’ll get out of this. You go back to your mother now, and tell her to pack, we’re leaving this region tonight. Leave now, before they see you.” Kaito had never seen his father quite so stern about anything in his entire life. He wanted to argue, or question his logic, or integrity, but couldn’t. Kaito thought it was a miracle that he could actually find the strength to move his legs to run. And he did.

“KATASHI FUJIMOTO.” Summoned Mr. Black sometime time after. Kaito’s father stepped up. “Aged 40, husband, father of one. Tell me: How old is your son?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“It’s my concern if I make it my concern.” He tapped Katashi on the head with his powerful forefinger “Otherwise, I’ll just send one of my machoke to ask his mother. And Pokémon do not reason as easily as us people.”

“…He’s 11.” He sounded defeated.

“So, he’s old enough to enlist, and therefor, old enough to be drafted. Correct?”

“…Yes.” Again, defeated.

“Well then, why is he not with you? He should be standing in line with his own father, wouldn’t you agree? But here I see no one near you who looks even remotely his age.”

“He only turned 11 today, he’s just a kid, please.” Katashi begged, “I’ll go. I won’t question orders, but please, let him have his own life. He has friends, and my wife needs caring for, she’s very sick.” He tried to keep a collected composure, but began to slip. “HE’S JUST A KID DAMMIT!”

Mr. Black ignored him as he skimmed through his clipboard. “It says here, in your profile, you have a close personal relationship with a Professor Samuel Oak. That wouldn’t be _the_ professor Oak, would it? The one still unconscious, lying over on the ground there still?”

“Er…yes. He tutors my son, who has a great interest in the field of biology and evolution.”

“Mhm, that’s not quite what it says here, but I think we can work it out. I’ll tell you what, Katashi, you seem like a good man and a decent father. Hard working? Perhaps.” He answered his own question, “You come with me. Now. No questions asked, no goodbyes or belongings brought with you. I’ll run it past my superiors, and _if_ they allow it, and _if_ you cooperate with us, I can promise the army won’t lay a finger on your son.”

“BLESS YOU.” Katashi got down on both knees, and failed to hold back his tears.

“Get up.” Mr. Black ordered. “Mr. White!" He barked "Mr. Fujimoto here gets a special seat.” Mr. Black smeared a smile onto his face at this.

The man with the megaphone grunted, and gave one of the machokes and affirmative look. It got up from its position, and followed Katashi to his seat in the helicopter. As he sat down, the machoke stood next to him, unwavering.

As the rest of the crowd was either drafted, or rejected, none were offered same deal as Kaito’s father. Mr. Black ordered that Oak and his raichu be placed safely in his house. Once the two machoke came back from this task, Mr. Black, Mr. White, and the man with the earpiece went in the cockpit. The machoke still stood next to Mr. Fujimoto, hardly blinking, and never flinching. The copter lifted off, as Kaito watched from his house, still waiting for his father.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Feel free to comment, I love any and all input (provided you're not an ass about it).   
> I don't have a livejournal because I'm much too lazy to figure out the format there, but I will provide regular updates on this series's tumblr page: http://pokemongenesis.tumblr.com/ so feel free to follow if you actually care (I will also post the fic itself on the page, which will be the only other medium I will be publishing this fic on)
> 
> And once again, thank you for reading,


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